Magus: A Supernatural LitRPG Saga (Apocosmos Book 2) Dimitrios Gkirgkiris (good english books to read .txt) 📖

the edge of the cliff. The huge hand behind me sent frozen needles down my spine, and I was certain that if the giant clenched me in his fist, it would all be over.

I reached the edge of the crevice and propelled myself forward. The portal was hovering around ten feet away from me now. I extended my hands and legs as far as I could, the way Olympic athletes did, to maximize my jump but also to keep them away from the icy grasp closing in behind me.

The frosty tingle of the giant's icy grip raised the hairs on the back of my neck... but then my body was pulled into the portal, and the mountains, the blizzard, and our enemies disappeared. In their place was what could only be described as a labyrinth of hedges, spanning as far as the eye could see under the dusk sky.

Somehow it seemed to be getting closer to me. I quickly realized it was actually me that was getting closer to it. The portal had thrown me out high above it, and I was free falling.

In my sword I trust

Interlude

"Alright!" Yalfrigg shouted and started pulling people up. "You've had enough faery tales for one day. The berserker needs to rest."

"If the man wants to rest, he can tell us to fuck off," a voice said from the crowd that surrounded the injured storyteller.

"Who said that?" the doctore asked and spun himself around, looking for the man who dared to defy him. "Thought so. When I say you're done here, it means you're done here. Everyone go back to your holes."

The men and women slowly stood up, many of them groaning in disappointment that their only entertainment had been cut short. There were no drinking nights, no music, no fun in the ludus. The berserker's stories were the only thing that helped the slaves escape the miserable reality of their lives for a few hours each day.

So much so, that people would retell his story themselves, embellishing it however they saw fit. They exaggerated the number of enemies he faced, his strengths, and his flaws. Anything they could do to make the tale even more interesting than it already was. Not because the original story wasn't enough to entertain, but because this was the natural way legends were born.

The dwarf sat down next to the berserker, who was still in his makeshift bed of garments and leathers. He didn't speak until everyone else had gone, leaving them alone to listen to the final drops of the blood-rain and the crackling of the fire.

Alexander had no idea why so many people were still interested in hearing his story. He'd only started telling it in the first place so they wouldn't think he was a mole sent by the dominus to spy on them. In that sense, he had to comply or else he'd eventually have found himself with a knife in his back.

Now however, after his latest battle, most people didn't need any further convincing that he hated this place and its owner as much as they did. Yet they kept coming to hear the continuation of his story. And he kept talking about his past as if it would change anything.

Of course, if he was given another chance, he'd do it all again. Become a killer and betray everyone who cared for him. It was all worth it.

Though in retelling his life's story now, he often thought of things that hadn't occurred to him at the time. Things like his hubris in going up against people he didn't know and things he didn't understand, the idea that he'd be able to train for a few years and fight head-to-head with beings more ancient than the ground he was walking on, and all the friends he'd made and lost along the way. Some he managed to leave better than when he'd met them, and some had died because of him and his weaknesses.

"Drink more of this," Yalfrigg said and gave him some of the analgesic potion. "You'll need it if you want to sleep rather than just toss and turn in pain."

Alexander downed the contents of the flask and passed it back to the dwarf who was now looking around again, checking to see if there was anyone in hearing range. Once he was sure they were alone, he put the flask away and looked at the human again.

"Did my brother really talk to you before he expired?" Yalfrigg asked.

Alexander pressed his lips together and nodded in confirmation. The dwarf had lost his only family in the ludus. A person he lived with for at least two hundred years. Alexander knew that the doctore would normally show no signs of weakness or let any emotion slip through his tough exterior, but no one was around. He lifted his hand and patted the dwarf's shoulder.

Yalfrigg instinctively pulled back but relaxed his posture after a few moments.

"I know how it feels," Alexander said. "You will meet again. Until then, live strong."

The dwarf didn't offer a response immediately but instead nodded some ten or so times before looking at the injured human again.

"His death will not be in vain," the dwarf said finally, looking Alexander straight in the eye. "I gave you what you asked for, berserker. You fought by yourself in the arena and you put my brother's soul to rest. But I wasn't the only one who made it happen."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alexander asked.

"You repaid my favor," he explained, "but there's another person who wants something in return."

"Who?"

"I cannot say," the dwarf replied. "They will approach you in their own time, and I'd suggest you listen to them."

Alexander sighed and turned his gaze back toward the fire, for he had seen this play one too many times. Yet again he was but a pawn in a board much larger than what he could see. Things were not as they had seemed. He was a leaf in a whirlwind of change that